


Reflected in the Ice

by thepromiseimadetoyou



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Ice Skating, Portal Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 08:29:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13186272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepromiseimadetoyou/pseuds/thepromiseimadetoyou
Summary: Up on the surface Mel and Virgil find an abandoned ice skating rink. Deep within Aperture Chell and Wheatley stumble across a large frozen puddle.An experiment in parallels.





	Reflected in the Ice

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for Blairaptor on Tumblr as part of the Portal Secret Santa gift exchange. I hope you enjoy. Happy holidays and New Year!

“I changed my mind! I make it _stop_!”

Brows furrow at the sight of a panicking Virgil, seated in the center of a child's swim ring, slowly sliding across the ice. It's not fast at all but maybe he just doesn't like the spinning aspect of it all? She can't see why he isn't finding it at least a _bit_ fun. Nevertheless when he slides close enough to her Mel stops the ring with a foot and smiles at him.

With the momentum gone his twitchy handles instantly droop in relief as a desperate, “ _Thank_ you!” echoes from his speakers. A pause as he regathers his composure and then, “Why did you suggest this?”

 _Because_ _I have you by my side_ , she thinks but cannot say. _And I've always wanted to try a winter sport._ But since her voice no longer works she merely sighs and sits down beside him on the ice, one hand on his makeshift skate to be sure he won't slide away.

“ _Gah_ , sorry. Sometimes I forget why you're so quiet.” Rapid blinks of metal eyelids as his eye shifts to look down at the swim ring, away from her, and his handles draw inward. Is that... sadness or embarrassment? For most of their first adventure he was only a voice and even now after spending months with him on the surface it's still hard to read him. He can't emote like a human and she's _still_ getting used to robots.

But Mel is not a quitter. She's his olympian. Sure it wasn't a gold medal but it would have been _no_ medal if she gave up. She pats his top behind his upper handle, then stands and lifts him from the ring.

“Where are we going _now_?”

With a smile she tilts her head toward the entrance to the skating rink and heads over there. The place is deserted, just like when they entered, but she saw skates stored behind the counter. Virgil had a turn ice skating as best he can and now she wants to try.  
She plunks him down on the counter, sits next to him, and grabs a pair of skates, noting how he watches her put them on. Curiosity?

“You're going out on the ice with _those_ shoes?” No, it's worry.

She nods and ties the second skate.

“Mel, you're a track runner. Not an ice skater. If you hurt yourself we'll _both_ be stuck here.”

Standing can wait. Rather than heading out to the ice she turns, leans toward Virgil, and wraps her arms around him in what she hopes is a reassuring hug. _It'll be fine. Please don't worry._

When she pulls back he's staring right into her eyes, handles brought toward his as if squinting. After a beat they return to their default positions and he flips to look back at the ice, then flips back to face her again. “Just be careful, Mel. I don't want to lose you.”

 _You_ _won't. I promise._ And she shuffles her way onto the ice rink.

Virgil was partially right. Skating is not like running. There is a balance required in the way you move that she just can't seem to get right. After falling for the fifth time she scoots her way back to the counter and watches Virgil loosen up as she swaps the skates out for her boots.

“You're done, right?”

Well no she's not done. She'd still like to try but if she keeps at it like this she'll only hurt worse in the morning. She's just going to take a break, and so wiggles her hand at him in a so-so motion.

“Fiine.” he groans, with a roll of his eye. And then quietly mutters with disdain, “Humans...”

She ignores that remark as she did the one long ago about her lack of door-opening skills. He's only rude as a means to cope with stress. She really should leave so as not to make it worse for him, but she's not sure they'll ever find a place like this again. Carpe diem.

Hm. What's a way to make this more enjoyable for the both of them? Her eyes catch sight of the abandoned swim ring and she breaks out into a grin. Before Virgil can comment she's shuffling out onto the ice to grab it and bring it back to the counter, wherein she hoists the core back into her arms.

“Should I be worried?” he asks.

With a shake of her head Mel sits in the swim ring as gently as possible, Virgil in her lap facing her, and pushes off onto the ice. He emits a startled shout but quiets down when she tightens her grip on him. If only that sleep experiment hadn't ruined her vocal chords she'd be laughing right now.

When he sees that she's having a grand old time of sliding around like this his lower eyelid rises and she can hear him chuckling softly. “All right,” he concedes after about twenty minutes of slipping around an abandoned ice rink in a swim ring. “Skating like this is _kind_ of fun, but only because you're here.”

 _Agreed._ When they finally come to a stop she folds herself over to hug the core in her lap. _It's far more fun with you here._ All is as it should be.  


* * *

  
Ice? Toxic goo is normal. Puddles of water few and far between. But ice? The puddle in this room is huge and frozen over. Chell sticks a foot out. About to step on it. Interrupted.

“Oi! You tryin' to kill yourself, luv?”

Plants her foot firmly back on the tiles, then turns to raise a brow at the interruption. The core following her around. Supposed to be guiding her. He's not very good at it but he's been kind and entertaining so far. Almost call him a friend. Why did he imply she's suicidal?  
“Just–just worried 'bout your safety. I mean, you get offed an' we're both outta luck, right? So maybe,” his handles move to squint formation. “maybe _not_ step on somethin' dangerous? Just an idea. Don't have to listen to silly ol' Wheatley. Prolly should though.”

Despite his words she steps onto the ice anyway, eliciting a groan of annoyance and frustrated mumbling from the core. Long Fall Boots have bad traction. Can barely stand, let alone walk. Third step. Slips. She's on her butt sliding to the other side of the frozen puddle.

“See this–this is _exactly_ what I was talkin' 'bout! Gonna end up like the other test subjects at this rate.”

Doesn't bother rolling her eyes. Takes energy. She does in her mind though. She's fine, Wheatley. Shut up. Sets the portal gun down. Hands to the ice to push herself up. Standing again. Walks slower this time.

A broken and foggy memory surfaces. A television in a room. Somehow she knows it's cold outside the room. On the television are people sliding on ice. Not falling. Moving gracefully while upright. She doesn't recall why they were doing it or what it was called but she's now determined to try it. To at the very least not fall again.

Slow steps get her going again and once she figures out how the ice uses her momentum she balances just fine. Like in the memory of the television people she throws her arms out to the side and tries to spin in place. She falls. Second try is wobbly but she stays upright.

“What on earth are you doin', luv?”

Grey eyes immediately snap back to Wheatley. She'd forgotten about him entirely.

“Is–is there a point to all that? To the slidin'? Can't see a point to sliding 'round on a patch of ice, really. Supposed to be escapin' remember? Not really productive, this, is it?” He tilts himself in the direction of the ice to emphasize.

No. It's not productive. Unless productive includes helping to jog loose some memories, in which case, yes it is. Either way she knows he's only going to keep mentioning it. He may be her friend but he's annoying sometimes. Hm. An idea is forming. She picks up the portal gun and works her way back across the ice, steps onto the tile again, and looks up at him on his management rail. Aims the portal gun at him.

He brings his handles close and his optic squints; fear. “Uh, what're you tryin' to do? Don't–don't think I'm a good portal surface but honestly I'd _really_ rather not find out. So don't, please don't shoot me?”

She presses the button to grab things and the prongs of the gun wiggle at him. His expression shifts to confused. “Ah, wot? You want me to come down there? I mean I know I didn't die last time I popped off this thing but, could have been a fluke. Could easily die this time! And you want me to risk it? For what?”

Rather than play charades with him she moves the prongs again. He sighs and glances between her and the rail before hugging his handles close again. “Right, so, on the off chance that I don't die this time also, you better catch me, luv. Like before on three. Ready, one, two, three CATCH ME CATCH ME–”

She grabs him with the portal gun when he drops on three and ignores the continued shouting until he realizes he is in fact not dead.

“Oh. Not a fluke then, apparently. Well that's good to know! Why did you want me off my rail? You never–never did explain.”

She doesn't answer. Just takes him over to the ice and slowly steps onto it.

“Oh no. No no no no no! You are not takin' me on that! What if you slip and drop me or somethin'!”

She didn't catch him the first time and he fell onto the floor. He was fine. To reiterate she drops him onto the ice. It cracks but the puddle is less than a foot deep. Not worried.

“Oi!” Wheatley shouts from the floor. She looks down at him. He rants back at her. “You think that's funny don't you? Drop poor Wheatley when he's worried 'bout that exact thing. I get it now. I'm alive, yeah. No thanks to you. Just sturdy construction. Necessary when humans decide to be rude and drop you all the time.”

All the time? She missed the first time. Has only dropped him once. The way he turns away and brings his handles close is like a pouting child. She crouches. Pats him like you would a person's head. Picks him up with the gun again.

Blue optic looks back at her, then down at the ice. Not a long drop but he still tells her, “Whatever you've got planned, luv, just don't drop me again.”

She won't. It's not part of the plan. The plan is to adjust her balance to account for the portal gun and what little weight Wheatley adds in the gun's grip. Recalculates the formula for how the ice will affect her momentum. Added variables.

Problem solved. She slides her way along, managing a few spins. It finally comes to her; ice skating. Wheatley is muttering about how dangerous this all is. Not shouting though. Might come to enjoy it like she is. In the depths of Aperture after an argument and before continuing their escape, they're taking a break for ice skating.

 


End file.
